Publicity Stunt
by Chi Haku
Summary: Akasuna Sasori, artist, librarian, and apparently lead singer Izawa Deidara's newest beau. ...Even though he's never met the guy. DeiSaso
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

* * *

Sasori

* * *

Akasuna Sasori had spent the last hour staring at the same spot on the wall where the large, round clock hung, watching the minutes tick by. His pale fingers drummed rhythmically on the counter, bored auburn eyes glassy and far away.

As much as the twenty four year old redhead loved his job at the huge library, with its high windows and hundreds upon hundreds of bookshelves laden with tomes new and old, some days it was just ridiculously dull. The boredom got so bad that he actually sometimes considered doing something ludicrous like jumping up on the counter and dancing.

Then, of course, he remembered he had a reputation and went in search of something to do.

Today he'd read a book and a half, but getting halfway through Kafka's 'Metamorphosis' for the ninth time in the last six months was so tiring by now he'd given up. There was only so many times you could read a book over before it just stared to sound like white noise. So he had just sat there and stared at the clock, waiting patiently for his day to be over.

It was too bad the library wasn't like most other establishments, which were able to close if business was over for the day. But no, they had to stay open until the same time every single day, even when not a single person had entered for the last two hours three minutes fifty seven and a half seconds.

But no, Sasori wasn't bored. Not at all.

The clock hand struck five sharp and Sasori was up and awake looking in a moment. He pulled on his jacket and grabbed his satchel, not even bothering to wait for any of the other employees to see him off. He exited the building, fishing around his pocket for his car keys and, eventually, finding them.

He unlocked his car from afar and opened the driver's side door, tossing his bag onto the passenger's seat and getting in. In under five minutes he was pulling out onto the road, turning in the direction of the east end of downtown.

Sasori was not what you might call a quintessential male. He wasn't tall, or strong looking, he didn't have facial hair and he, to be honest, wasn't altogether very masculine. Red-brown eyes were framed with long, dark lashes, and his pale skin was accentuated by messy red hair that fell to his shoulders.

He was slender and lean, more bone and muscle than anything else, without an ounce of fat on him. Accept for in the cheeks, which only succeeded in giving him a boyish look. Despite being twenty four years old and out of college, he still got asked if he was alone when he went into restaurants. It irritated him to think people still thought he looked young enough to need a supervisor.

Nonetheless, his youthful looks were more often than not an asset more than a hindrance. In the world's eternal search to appear younger as to be more attractive, Sasori had somehow happened upon the proverbial golden goose. He never seemed to age past sixteen or seventeen, depending on your opinion.

At the same time though, getting carded when you're out with people who are obviously of age is just this side of infuriating, and Sasori was this close to tattooing his driver's license on his forehead for the sake of ease.

Today Sasori was not headed in the direction of his home, but instead an art gallery. It would not be the first, or last time that he spent his evenings exploring a new gallery, or even an old one. At heart, even more than his love of books and knowledge, Sasori loved art.

It was one of his true weaknesses. Promise him a good book and he's likely to take you up on whatever offer you have, but promise him Van Gogh or Picasso or, hell, Andy Warhol, and he would agree in a heartbeat. No matter how many times he went to the same museums and the same exhibits, over and over again, it just never got old. He always longed to go back and spend long hours roaming the halls, looking at the fabled works that had survived the ages.

A new exhibit had opened up, a no name, rising star artist who had caught some high end buyer's attention and was climbing the ladder to success rather quickly. Sasori thought, from the advertisements, that he looked rather promising, as far as modern artists went.

So, putting his own preemptive opinions aside, he had decided to spend tonight looking over this new artist's work and gauging his opinion based on firsthand experience. He wasn't a critic, though the job did seem relatively appealing from time to time, but he preferred to have an opinion on an artist rather than be undecided.

It wasn't as though there was anyone at home waiting for him anyway. He lived alone, just him and his books, so he could go home whenever he very well pleased.

With nothing but the road in front of him and the promise of a good evening of viewing what should be rather enjoyable art, Sasori turned on the car radio. He fiddled with it a few moments, looking for a station that suited his mood, and finally settling on some soft rock and roll.

He sighed, relaxing into his seat and enjoying the drive, his own private quiet time, as he drove towards the gallery. Not that his home wasn't quiet alone time, but there were always neighbors to contend with, and some of them had children. Loud children.

Hopefully, it would be a pleasant evening. At least more interesting than the last half of his day had been.

Unfortunately, hoping alone hardly ever gets anyone anywhere, least of all Akasuna Sasori, and especially not today.

* * *

To say that the exhibit had been incredibly disappointing was an understatement. Sasori reserved to trust his own judgment from here on in, no matter how much research he did on the artist he was going to see. If he thought he wasn't going to like it, then he would wait until he didn't have to pay twenty dollars to go see their sorry excuses for what passes as artwork these days.

The exhibit, in his humble opinion, had not been worth the twenty dollar entry fee. He didn't understand how they as a society had gone from works like the Mona Lisa and Dali's surrealist landscapes as the pinnacle of their artistic views…. To a dot of red on a giant canvas being a 'great expression of the modern political blah blah blah blah'.

It was outrageous. Renaissance men and women toiled for weeks and months on portraits and landscapes of their home countries and people, creating ravishing works full of vibrant life and charm. Surrealists spent hours twisting the views of our world and making them into mind boggling paintings and sculptures that would forever fascinate the masses. Abstract artists like Picasso melded imagination with color to speak to even those without the attention span to care of meticulous detail.

Nowadays it was just a bunch of idiots who stood in front of a canvas, pretending to be thoughtful, until inspiration SUDDENLY struck them and they drew a single line and said 'My masterpiece is complete'.

Sasori was an expert on over six different forms of art, from America, Europe, Africa and Asia. He did not see how a fucking line on white canvas was anything but a conman's get rich quick scheme. Where on earth had the true artists gone? This was ridiculous.

He had spent most of his tour reading his newest book, which he had picked up at a bookstand out front before coming into the gallery. It was a fantasy novel that was eating away his attention, but even if it had been Kafka's 'Metamorphosis' all over again, he probably would have still found it more entertaining.

As a true connoisseur of the arts, he had given each new work a minute of his time, trying in vain to find what so fascinated the modern populous. He would listen to the 'explanation' the tour guide gave, delighted when he saw people believing it just as little as he did, but then he would return to his book.

What little hope he'd had that the paintings would get any better dwindled farther and farther until it was put out completely when they came to the installations.

A plate in the middle of the floor. A hanging red ball. REALLY? Sasori almost screamed, but instead returned attention to his much more interesting and well thought out novel.

Now, with the last three hours ill spent and his wallet twenty dollars lighter, a much less content Sasori left the art gallery. He was incredibly displeased with how his evening had gone, and even more disgruntled that he'd even hoped it wouldn't be. The word 'modern' in conjunction with 'art' should just forever be his signal to wait until ticket prices went down to even pretend to care.

He stopped off at the stall he'd bought his book at, making himself feel a little bit better by buying two more books and tipping the kind old man with a ten. More money spent, but in the face of bad art, Sasori would fall back on his love of novels to cheer him up.

At the very least he was glad he'd parked several streets away, giving him a little bit of time to walk and clear his head. Going home annoyed never did him any good, so walking off his irritation would probably help make him feel better.

Sasori opened his novel as he walked, reading through the faded pages with interest. Unlike most who read and walked, Sasori was well versed in it. He never ran into anyone, or anything, and managed to obey all traffic signals. Some friends teased he had eyes on the top of his head.

Sasori walked around the block several times to clear his head, then finally crossed the street and made his way towards where he had parked his car. He felt better now, head full of far off lands and intriguing characters rather than washed up has been artists.

The walk to his car wasn't too far away, and he found himself humming softly to a tune in his head that sounded vaguely like something from The Hobbit.

He rounded the corner, then went up the street, heading towards the parking lot to his left where his car was waiting. Car, then home, then dinner and maybe a stupid movie just to give him something mindless to do.

However as was stated before, Akasuna Sasori did not have the best of luck today.

He was halfway through a fight scene and perhaps ten yards from his car when he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders. Sasori, usually quite good at judging when people were near him, jumped in shock and nearly dropped his book. He caught it, but lost his place, and was about to complain his voice stuttered to a halt.

A soft snicker sounded against his ear, and someone spoke in a voice that suggested something along the lines of mischief and utter mayhem.

"Just go with it, red."

Sasori opened his mouth to demand to know what the fuck was going on, but never got farther than the beginning of 'wuh' before he was silenced.

In the following moments quite a number of things happened at once, so I will take it slowly to explain what the hell is going on.

Sasori noticed several things at once. For one, he had been pulled up against a very obviously male chest, someone's very strong feeling arms wound around his slight figure. Whoever this person was, he smelled like sweat and tasted like a green apple jolly rancher.

Next of course, came the realization that there was yelling and flashing lights, and it took him a moment to realize, in his astonishment, what it was. Cameras. Reporters. There were fucking paparazzi photographing this unknown man kissing him for whatever reason. They were yelling questions, but all Sasori really caught was what might have been a name.

Finally, Sasori's mind put all the pieces together.

Some random, apparently famous, guy had just run up, grabbed him, kissed him in front of at least twenty reporters, and seemed in no hurry to let go.

So Sasori did the only thing a logical, self-assured young man who could handle himself would do.

He raised his hard bound, five hundred plus page book, and he hit the man over the head with it as hard as he possibly could.

Today was just not his fucking day.

* * *

**A/N: **

I thought it pertinent to inform people of what the ' Sasori ' at the beginning of the chapter meant. This indicates who the chapter is following, or centered around.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

* * *

Sasori

* * *

The first thing Sasori noticed when he woke up was that he had woken up late. In his experience, that was a pretty good indicator that it was going to be an absolutely atrocious day. For the life of him though, he could not imagine why, sure that the entirety of the previous night had been nothing but a horrible dream.

He rose and dressed, jeans and a white button up shirt, forsaking the idea of a tie or anything that might make the outfit anymore formal. He just wanted to feel put together today, the dream, or whatever it had been, was thoroughly unnerving.

He traipsed downstairs, running a hand through his messy red hair. His shift started in just under an hour which meant he had to eat next to nothing, skip his morning shower, and speed on the emptier roads to get there in time. Not the kind of morning he would have preferred.

Putting water on for tea, he rummaged around the cupboards until he found a box of pop tarts, which weren't his most favorite thing in the world, but better than starving. He ripped open a package with his teeth while pulling his belt on, biting into the iced confection.

While waiting for the water to boil, Sasori went to the front door, intent on going out to get his paper, only to find it on the inside of his door. He stared at it, startled.

Usually, the paper was left outside, or wrapped in plastic during the rain. Only a few times could he remember it coming in through his mail slot, mainly whenever there were spontaneous storms or he wasn't home for the week.

Frowning to himself, Sasori picked up the paper and went back to the kitchen, munching on his pop tart. Looking down at the paper, he saw a shipping slip on the rolled up news and cursed. He'd forgotten he had ordered several new books last week.

Ah well, he could deal with being late once in a while. Besides, it wasn't as though Wednesdays were exactly the BUSIEST days at the library. They'd manage without him for a half hour.

Trailing back to his door and licking his lips clean of pop tart crumbs, Sasori thought over how he would spend today. Likely stocking the shelves or organizing, and so long as he didn't get put on record duty he'd be happy. Then again, the library had learned its lesson considering the last three times he had been on duty with the records, he'd just read the whole time.

Sasori opened his door, about to lean down and grab the package, but was instead stunned into silence by the flash of a camera.

In under ten seconds there were clamoring people and voices swarming at him, camera lights flashing and microphones being held up to him. Rather than stay to find out what was going on, Sasori kicked his package inside and slammed the door shut.

Leaning back against it with wide eyes, all he could think was; What the FUCK was that?!

He rushed into the living room, dropping his package down on the coffee table and flicking on the television. The news turned on just in time for an image of him being kissed by the strange blond last night to come on the screen. He stared, mutely, for a few minutes, his throat dry.

After staring at the replaying coverage for what felt like an eternity, he spun around and dashed into the kitchen.

Scooping up the newspaper from the kitchen table, he frantically uncurled it and stared in horror at the front page. There, again, was an image of the long hair blond, holding a rather stunned looking him, kissing the living daylights out of him.

Sasori wrenched the pages open to the article that went with the picture, wincing at several more photographs that rather graphically detailed how he'd hit the blond over the head.

Maybe a paperback next time, he thought.

His auburn eyes scanned the article, following each line carefully. It read as follows;

"_A Shocking Smooch!_

_Late last Tuesday night outside the parking lot of Westminster Arts and History Gallery, reporters caught this surprising set of photos._

_Mentalcase lead singer, Deidara Izawa, is seen kissing an unknown redhead for the cameras. Subsequently, this unnamed individual is seen hitting him over the head with what appears to be a rather heavy book. Ouch!_

_Deidara was last sited with London reporter Meggie Alsdale who has to no one's surprise, apparently given way to a new flame. Though at this time unidentified, the obviously fiery redhead seems to be a bit camera shy, given his reaction to his beau's hot kiss._

_Sources tell us that though they've never seen the cutie before, they're not altogether surprised that he's Deidara's new flame._

'_A redhead certainly fits Dei's tastes,' says a close friend. 'And we all know he's not really picky about gender. Good for him, giving the idiot a solid whack though.'_

_Deidara spent a majority of his evening in his hotel room with his band mates, but was later spotted exploring the downtown district, where the paparazzi caught up to him. We can only guess that he was planning on meeting up with his mystery boy before reporters interrupted him._

_Though Deidara declined to comment on his fetching young companion, he did say and quote;_

'_I probably deserved that hit over the head, a little more warning would probably keep me from getting sent to the doghouse in the future.'_

_The future eh? Well it's not the first time we've heard such optimistic words from Deidara Izawa, but I suppose we'll just have to see how his relationship with this new redhead pans out."_

Definitely NOT a paperback, Sasori thought, before letting out an enraged scream to his empty kitchen.

* * *

Sasori had not been foolish enough to think that the reporters would have not found his place of work, after finding out where he lived. How they had even managed that was a mystery to him, and quite frankly, he didn't want to know the answer to it.

It took him an hour to manage to get away from his home, into his car, and drive to work. He was tempted to say screw this altogether and leave town for a while, at least until 'Deidara' went away, but it wasn't happening. Not only did he have responsibilities, he wasn't about to be run from his own place of work and residency by reporters.

Outside of his work there was a whole host of paparazzi milling around, just waiting for him to arrive. Sasori held his head up high and walked through the lot of them until he was swarmed and quite literally boxed in.

The redhead scowled as microphones and cameras were shoved in his face. He was tempted to swipe them out of people's hands, but instead he just stood his ground.

"Sir, can you tell us your name?!"

Sasori twitched, but resigned himself to the questions that were sure to follow. Just get it out of the way, he told himself. They probably know who you are anyway.

"Akasuna Sasori." he said coldly.

"And can you tell us the nature of your relationship with Mentalcase's Izawa Deidara?!"

This time, Sasori did bat the camera aside, just barely resisting the urge to shove a female reporter backwards.

"First of all," he snapped. "I have no idea what the hell 'Mentalcase' is and second of all, I've never met anyone named Izawa Deidara in my life and I have no intention to either. Now let me through I have work."

With those last, icily spoken words, he shoved his way through the reporters, ignoring any further questions. he was glad, at least, that the library had a no media policy and he would be safe inside for as long as he was working. He was going to beg relentlessly for overtime today.

Hell he'd do the records if he had to.

Sasori got inside and slumped in behind the counter, only to find an issue of this morning's paper sitting with someone's half-drunk cup of coffee. Groaning, he shoved both in the trash and slumped, head hitting the keyboard of his computer.

Today was turning out to be ridiculously horrendous.

* * *

Deidara

* * *

Unlike a certain, unwitting redhead, an equally unwitting blond spent his morning much more at ease. He woke up, lazed around, waited for his band mates to come join him in his room, then ordered room service. They ate, watched TV for a few hours, then wound up playing video games until their agent called to bitch them out for not leaving the hotel all day.

Izawa Deidara was the lead singer of what had quickly become an incredibly popular band known as Mentalcase. They preferred a cross between metal and pop, depending on their mood and what song they were singing. The combination made just as little sense to their agent and sometimes themselves as anyone else, but they pulled it off well, appealing to all kinds of audiences across the world.

Deidara was twenty two, with long, wild blond hair the color of the sun and eyes as blue as the sky. His manic grin was known to melt most hearts and he could feign innocence right up until he dumped paint all over you. He was the ideal sort of guy to be the face of a band.

Then there was Hidan, the tall, albino drummer who usually had to have sunglasses on outside so the light didn't hurt his eyes. Nothing much more metal than a genuine albino, and that coupled with his preferred choice of colorful words and rude hand gestures wrote him off as either a lunatic or a true rocker. Or both.

Their guitar player was Sasuke Uchiha, the younger brother of their manager, Itachi Uchiha. Both hailed from privileged backgrounds, and they certainly acted like it most of the time. Snooty and snobbish the both of them with a preference for dark clothing and mystery. But they were hella good at what they did.

With Sasuke came their bassist Naruto Uzumaki, jumpy, loud, and usually clothed in clothes with so many colors your eyes may bleed. Despite being Sasuke's exact opposite, the two maintained a steady relationship even before the band was formed.

Their final band member was their keyboard player, a shy, sweet girl named Hinata who only ever seemed to really let herself go on stage. The rumor was that she'd had a crush on Naruto, but whether or not that was true had never been confirmed. The band didn't pry into her business either, just glad that she felt comfortable staying with them.

Of course, that may have also had something to do with her cousin, Neji, being their makeup artist but hey, that was all by and large superficial in the end.

Deidara rolled over, laying on his back with his head hanging over the end, staring at the television. For what might have been the literal umpteenth time that day, they were playing the footage of him kissing that redhead from the night before.

It had been a spur of the moment idea. See cute redhead, think about asking cute redhead to come over sometime and maybe have a hot night together, decide to kiss cute redhead on national television. (No one ever said his logic made any sense.)

Deidara didn't regret it but to be fair he didn't regret most things.

He hummed to himself thoughtfully, staring at the screen. Red HAD been rather cute, and he was a sweet little thing, thin and easy to hold. Cute even. It wouldn't be so bad to see him again, maybe get him to apologize for whacking him, or apologize to him for the spontaneous kiss. Whatever came first and had the best outcome.

"Y'know." Deidara said. "I could always call up the newspaper or tabloids and see what they've got as Red's address."

Itachi turned his dark eyes on his friend, giving him a withering look.

"Deidara, you're suggesting that you will stalk a young man you don't even know the name of and use the free press to do it."

Deidara shrugged, which made him inch farther off the bed.

"He's cute." he said simply. "And probably a good kisser, when given a bit more warning. Might as well do a bit of follow up for the magazines, and hey, I'll enjoy it along the way."

"And what about his fucking opinion?" Hidan asked, still munching on fries from their impromptu pseudo-brunch.

Deidara shrugged again, his head now getting progressively closer to the rug.

"I'll just buy him some nice things, take him out to dinner a few times." he said dismissively. "We'll both get something out of it."

"We do have the spending money for that." Naruto pointed out from where he was lounging on Sasuke's lap.

Hinata looked vaguely like she disapproved, as did Itachi, but neither said anything about it. Deidara was like a bird, he flitted around a lot, and he was very bad at being caged. There had yet to be anyone who kept the blond sparrow coming back to their windowsill more than a few months.

They weren't exactly hopeful now either.

"So it's decided!" he chirped. "I'll call the nearest tabloid and ask 'em where the cute redhead lives and works!"

"…Deidara if you were any fucking one else, that would be so fucking creepy as shit man."

Deidara laughed at Hidan.

"And that is precisely why you all love me!"

* * *

Sasori

* * *

Sasori had managed to forget all about the reporters for several hours, disappearing in the back parks of the library where there were fewer windows, and those that were there were high enough up that there was no way to be filmed or photographed through them.

He had spent a few peaceful hours putting away books and sometimes stopping to read through a few. He was content to spend his time sorting through the musty tomes until someone asked for his help or advice.

He had directed several people towards the books they were after, offering them his opinion and a civil smile. Just working was nice, and it was even better when he was allowed to take that blessed overtime. At least this way it gave the reporters a few more hours to get bored before he had to exit his workspace.

Unfortunately, the library closed at seven that day and he was forced to leave with the other employees. He got several sympathetic looks on his way out, but knew better than to ask for someone to cover him. He'd rather not get other people involved.

Getting back to his car was less of a hassle than he had expected, and getting home wasn't so bad. However despite his best efforts to avoid them, there were reporters crawling all over his yard. He was very glad, for the moment, that his garden was in the back instead, and protected by a gate.

Once he had shoved his way past the reporters and gotten back inside, Sasori locked his door, then all of his windows and shut the curtains. It was incredibly irritating. He liked having the windows open at night to coax the breeze in and listen to the neighborhood, and he preferred the curtains open so he could see the sky.

Irritated beyond belief and this close to hunting the blond down and tearing him limb from limb, Sasori picked up the phone and dialed the emergency number.

There was a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as police cars pulled up to his house fifteen minutes later, and all the reporters were either ushered away or arrested, depending on their actions. He watched from behind a sheer curtain until they were all gone, then turned away, now ready to go to bed.

He would not be harassed in his own home, and if the media wanted to play dirty, he could most certainly play dirtier.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

* * *

Deidara

* * *

The collective band members and workers of Mentalcase were only half surprised when Deidara came bouncing into Itachi's room. They switched rooms each day, just to mix it up and make sure the media didn't know whose room they'd be in, and today the eldest Uchiha had to host them.

Deidara flounced in and plopped himself down on Itachi's bed, looking a little giddy. He was met with raised eyebrows.

"What's got you so fuckin' cheerful as fuck?" Hidan asked, downing the last of his coffee. Or something stronger, one could never be too sure with Hidan.

Deidara cackled, crossing his legs and leaning forward.

"Guess what Red did last night~"

"The fact that you even know what some random guy you kissed once did last night is incredibly disturbing." Neji commented from where he was laying on the floor, letting Hinata play with his hair.

"Oh shut up Neji." Deidara scoffed. "Guess guess guess!"

Naruto sat up, to Sasuke's chagrin, hopping over to flop down over Deidara's knees. Sasuke would have been jealous, but the two blonds were as good as brothers, and he knew better than to even think they'd be anything else.

"Well." Naruto said. "I know you didn't leave your room last night, so you didn't sleep with him."

"I wish." Deidara sighed. "But no, you're right, I didn't."

"Uh, did he call you?"

"Nope."

Neji sat up to join in the conversation.

"Kiss another, less fabulous celebrity?" he asked.

Deidara flipped his hair, grinning in his self-assured way at the half-compliment.

"No, to my knowledge I am the only celebrity he's kissed, guess again."

"Nooo it's impossible!" Naruto whined, pouting. "We don't even know this guy, just tell us Dei!"

Deidara held out another minute and a half before Naruto's puppy eyes got to him. No one could resist the puppy eyes, it was a proven scientific fact. Many had tired, all had failed, though, Sasuke was probably the one to fail quickest. It was to the point he usually did what Naruto said just to avoid getting that look, for his own pride's sake.

With a sigh, Deidara slapped his grin back in place.

"He called the cops on the reporters!"

Sasuke almost spat out his coffee, but managed to choke it down. Hidan, however, had spat his coffee, and Itachi was scowling at him for it. Naruto was gaping at him, and Neji looked relatively incredulous, as did his cousin. The general air in the room was surprise, and well warranted. Not many people had the audacity to call the police on the media.

"He did what?" Sasuke asked, sounded somewhere between disbelieving and impressed.

"Can you even DO that?!" Naruto gasped, obviously in awe.

Sasuke scowled, looking very much like his older brother. He didn't like his boyfriend admiring anyone but him, thank you very much. Together over three years and he was still a jealous ass, honestly.

Deidara shrugged his shoulders, laughing and leaning back against his hands on the bed.

"Dunno, to be honest, but he pulled it off. Got some of them arrested even, when they refused to leave."

"That's kinda really fucking amazing you know? This guy's something, putting up with your shit and the fucking media at the same time."

The blond pouted at Hidan, but didn't argue. So maybe he was kind of putting up with his shit a lot, good for him. Deidara liked a bit of spice with his sweetness.

For now though, he was more concerned with how to meet the redhead again. Luckily enough, he had friends who would rather see him go bother some innocent civilian than whine to them.

Itachi knocked his hand against Deidara's knee, holding a piece of paper out to him. Deidara took it and almost squealed with excitement.

"Is this-?!"

"Yes, it's Red's work address. He's a librarian. Don't ask me how I got it and no, I won't give you his home address, but yes I have it."

Deidara practically tackled his manager, hugging him around the neck and making the usually stoic man squawk indignantly. Sasuke snickered at his older brother until Naruto did the same to him, and it sort of deteriorated from thereon in.

The band spent the rest of the morning wrestling and pillow fighting, for no good reason by their own childish entertainment, until Deidara left around eleven, a plan forming in his mind.

* * *

If you are rich and famous, then bribing, or shall we say coercing, someone with expensive presents and nice things comes naturally after a point. There comes to be a time when you can look at someone and tell exactly what will look good on them, or they will like best, and if all else fails, something that can be resold for high value. Money is always money.

It didn't take Izawa Deidara very long to find something he deemed appropriate for his elusive redhead. A string of diamonds that would look lovely around his wrist. (The thought that he may not be the kind of man who enjoyed wearing jewelry never crossed Deidara's mind.) If not his wrist then maybe as a charm or who knew what else. Whatever he wanted.

So long as it bought him a little time with the redhead, then Deidara could care less what he did with it.

While usually Deidara would stop to sign autographs and chat with his fans (he was a nice guy, despite what his actions are currently telling you), he didn't really have the time today. He didn't know where Red lived so he had a limited amount of time before he left work for the day.

Generally dressed in whatever the hell he wanted, Deidara had spent the day in a hoodie and sunglasses to avoid being recognized. It did a number on his (poor, sleek, shiny) hair, but it was worth it to get in and out of the three jewelry stores undetected.

At last he pulled off his hoodie and shades, leaving him in a tight fitting shirt and faded jeans, collapsing into his car. Grinning to himself, Deidara turned up the radio and set off, the present wrapped neatly in the passenger's seat. With any luck, he'd have a very cute redhead in his bed tonight.

Remember how unlucky Sasori was though?

That luck is incredibly catching.

* * *

When Deidara arrived at the library parking lot, Sasori was just heading towards his car. The redhead looked tired, worn out from another day of avoiding the paparazzi now hounding him. He hadn't even been able to leave for lunch that day, though he was lucky enough to have helpful coworkers.

At the very least they seemed to have learned their lesson from the past legion of reporters, some of which were still stuck in jail. That was just about the only thing that kept them from following him to his car.

Deidara, however, was waiting. He remembered the car, it had sped out of the parking lot just a few minutes after the first time he'd kissed Red. It was hard to forget a car moving that fast with a fiery redhead behind the wheel. Or that may have just been Deidara.

To his delight, the redhead seemed to recognize him. Why he looked delighted! (Deidara was delusional, Sasori looked absolutely horrified to see the rock star leaning against his car.)

Slipping on his best charming grin, Deidara kicked off the car and waltzed up to the redhead, who had stopped dead in his tracks. Sasori looked thoroughly disgruntled with the other's presence, but he didn't dare do anything more than stand there. Make a scene, and the paparazzi would come running. It was best for him to just go with it and run at the first opportunity.

"It seems I've caused you a, ah, fair bit of trouble." Deidara began, trying to sound apologetic. He managed vaguely sympathetic, barely. The amusement in his eyes kind of killed it.

Sasori gave him a withering look.

"Oh you think?" he said scathingly. "Please, enlighten me, whatever did I do to you to make you want to torment me of all people. If we've met before I've utterly forgotten."

Deidara laid a hand over his heart dramatically.

"Red, you wound me! If we'd met before, I assure you," his grinned turned mischievous. "You certainly wouldn't have forgotten."

The redhead muttered something that sounded a great deal like 'I sincerely doubt that', then commented, louder;

"My name isn't 'Red', it's Akasuna Sasori."

Deidara grinned wider. Ah-ha. A name. The press probably already had it but he didn't pay attention to magazines anymore, not since he'd gotten famous himself. They mostly printed bullshit anyway.

"Very well then, Sasori. As it so happens, you've done nothing to me other than interest me. I really am sorry for causing you so much trouble."

"At the expense of your amusement."

Were he a gentleman, Deidara probably would have argued that point, but he didn't, seeing as it was true.

Instead, he pulled the box containing the bracelet from his back pocket and held it out to Sasori with his usual heart melting smile. Deidara was good at charming people and better at getting what he wanted, he was more than sure that he had Sasori all figured out by this point.

"Here," he said. "A token of my gratitude and equally, a token of apology."

As if to add icing to the cake, Deidara turned his grin to a smile as Sasori tentatively took the box. He could read this guy like an open book, just like everyone else. Just be nice and apologize, give a little, get a little. Easy as pie.

"And you know, I'd love to apologize more, for many other things, if you'd be willing to entertain my company."

Sasori glanced up at him, and Deidara had to resist the urge to pounce. On a scale of one to ten, this guy was definitely at the very least a thirteen on a level of cuteness. He was just ridiculously sweet looking. Maybe it was his boyish features or his femininity, it didn't matter, what did matter was that Deidara wanted it. He was okay with having to give things up eventually, so long as he got to possess them for a little while.

The blond haired rock star leaned down, intent on giving the redhead a proper kiss to seal the deal. When in doubt rely on your skills as a lover to win someone over, or that's how Deidara tended to operate.

He was only encouraged when the redhead did nothing to pull away, and was about to get his second kiss, when he felt his legs go out from under him with a sharp pain. It took him a moment to realize that Sasori had kicked his legs out from under him as hard as he could, without missing a beat.

In the few seconds it took for Deidara to hit the ground with a loud yelp, he realized several things.

Mainly that he could not, in fact, read Akasuna Sasori at all whatsoever and thinking he could had been hopelessly stupid. There was nothing conventional or normal about the read head, and that made him a force to be reckoned with entirely. Perhaps the most shocking thing however, was the realization that he, the player, had been utterly played by this strange young man whose name he'd only just learned.

Sasori dropped the box on the ground with disdain.

"Come near me again and I will be calling the police on YOU instead of your reporter friends. I don't give half a damn HOW famous you are."

And with those cold words, Sasori stepped over the blond and stalked to his car, getting in, and just moments later, driving off.

Deidara laid there for a long minute, staring at the sky.

Diamonds. He had rejected DIAMONDS! Without even opening the box!

The rock star leapt up, feeling giddy, and returned to his own car. When he got in, he found his cell phone already ringing in the glove box and he quickly grabbed it, only to find the call from Itachi. He flicked his cellular phone on and held it to his ear.

"I sort of figured if you didn't pick up after five calls, you were entertaining Mister Akasuna." Itachi said, tone bored. "But seeing as you aren't, what went wrong?"

Deidara laughed.

"Nothing!"

"…Then you aren't at some upscale hotel with him right now because…?"

Deidara laughed again, grinning to himself as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Oh nothing went wrong, but well, I mean, everything kind of went wrong, but in a good way. Know what I mean?"

"Not particularly but knowing you, it means you won't be giving up this new found fascination any time soon. Whatever did this unwitting redhead do to catch so much of your interest?"

For a third time, Deidara laughed like a loon.

"He threatened to call the cops on me Itachi! I think I'm in love!"

Itachi sighed.

"Of course you are."

* * *

**A/N:** I have previously failed to mention but this fic will be updating on **_Mondays._**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

* * *

Deidara

* * *

Deidara returned to the band's hotel after a long night, looking a bit tired, but overall chipper. Excited, even, but that was Deidara, always happy about something.

Of course, when one says hotel, they don't mean a normal person hotel. They mean an extremely rich person hotel. Whereas a normal person will stay in a nice hotel with a small, but nice room and a bathroom and maybe a kitchenette sometimes, rich people hotels weren't like that.

The penthouse suite was not an apartment, it was an entire floor, the nice rooms were the size of an upscale apartment, and the small rooms were still likely about twice the size of whatever flat you lived in. There was an outdoor and indoor pool, a gym on two of the floors, a juice bar, personal trainers to be hired daily or weekly. Of course, there was also highly paid security, tinted windows and two doormen.

Mentalcase had bought out an entire floor for themselves, which came equipped with an elevator that stopped only on the floor the pass card was assigned to, a personal set of room service attendants, and their own parking garage. It was a pretty sweet setup, and it was a lot more like renting an apartment than a hotel room.

Deidara preferred it that way. Felt like coming home at the end of the day than just to some faceless hotel room. Rich and famous he may be, but he had grown up in a moderate household. He liked having a place to call home, even for a little while.

Today, he was returning from a night away from home. Instead, he had spent his night entertaining a woman whose name he wouldn't remember until he saw her face next to a newspaper article. She had been pretty, and a screamer, to his memory.

If one asked, Deidara had quite enjoyed himself, and getting out a bit of sexual frustration put a skip in his step. With someone plaguing his less than saintly fantasies, he tended to need an outlet for all that pent up lust. Usually, that was the person within those fantasies.

Akasuna Sasori however, was proving to be a new kind of challenge.

Deidara hadn't just picked up the first paparazzo he'd seen though, he had carefully selected her from Itachi's unlimited and very reliable sources. She had the most information on his redhead, and he wanted it. Night of passion and a bit of gossip on the band (within what they'd given him permission to say) and he had the scoop, even the things she didn't intend to print.

So, with information and a less tense posture, he swiped his card and waited patiently for the elevator to reach the eleventh floor. When it got there, he got out, stretched, and went to peek in on Hidan's room. He was out, probably doing karaoke at a bar or something, which meant the others were either also out, or having private time.

Rather than bother them, the blond went to the communal area, which had no door, but rather two sliding ones that could be hidden in the walls, and flopped down onto the couch. It was big, covered in beige suede and incredibly fluffy and comfortable. Deidara relaxed and kicked his feet up, about to turn on the television, when Neji appeared out of virtually nowhere.

He had a bad habit of doing that. The makeup artist went unnoticed by the general populous most of the time, despite being Hinata's cousin, as he was, well, a makeup artist. It wasn't that he was unappreciated, people just tended to take him for granted. It was part of his usefulness, but it had also taught him how to be ridiculously sneaky.

Deidara, used to him popping up out of the shadows, barely jumped when he plopped down on the other end of the couch.

"Hey Neji." Deidara said. "Not out with Hidan?"

"Didn't feel like tequila shots at ten am."

"Ah. He still trying to get drunk?"

"He hasn't gotten drunk since you two were in high school, has he?"

"…No, I don't think he has." Deidara thought about it, momentarily marveling. "He may be immune by now."

Neji scoffed, but Deidara just laughed. Hidan liked his liquor, and crazy he may be, but it had been a long time since he had actually seemed drunk, or even tipsy.

They fell silent and Deidara turned on the TV, moving the station from news to something more lighthearted. Cartoon Network won out and they were left with Adventure Time in the background. Neji didn't seem to mind, so the channel stayed, and they got through an episode and a half before the dark haired man spoke up.

"Mind telling me where you've been, Deidara?"

"What's it matter?"

The response was automatic, and Neji chanced a glance at Deidara with a raised eyebrow. The blond looked ashamed for snapping at his friend, so his pale eyed companion let it slide for the moment. Sometimes, Deidara forgot he didn't need to be defensive around his friends.

"It doesn't, I'm just curious is all."

The blond was silent a long moment, but eventually shrugged his shoulders.

"I was banging some reporter chick. Dark hair, big eyes. She was pretty."

Of course she was. Deidara was like a bird, only went towards the shiniest objects and pecked at them relentlessly until they were his. At least until he found something shinier.

"Any particular reason she caught your eye?"

"Nah, not really. Honestly I would have done her even without outside motives, but Itachi found out she had the biggest scoop on Red, so I thought I'd give barter a trade."

"I thought his name was Sasori."

"It is. I like calling him Red."

"…" Neji shook his head. "And what, sex for information?"

"Mainly." Deidara admitted. "But, uh, I may have possibly also confirmed that Hidan's pansexual and that Sasuke did in fact get a tattoo. Somewhere. Didn't tell what or where though."

"Sasuke's going to kill you, you know that right?"

Deidara stuck his tongue out at Neji.

"Oh he deserves it, he told the press about that time I got my tongue pierced and my whole mouth swelled up for a week." he grumbled.

"Fair enough."

They fell silent again, watching another episode of Adventure Time together. It seemed to be a marathon today, which Deidara could admit being pleased about. He liked this cartoon, it was funny, and though ridiculous, also interesting.

Eventually though, Neji spoke up again. He was a lot like Sasuke in that he didn't generally start conversations, not unless the topic very much interested him. Between the two, it was actually rather surprising that Neji was doing more talking than Deidara.

"Just out of curiosity, why are you hounding this guy? Akasuna Sasori, I mean."

Deidara shrugged.

"Dunno." he admitted. "He's interesting? New? Why do you ask?"

Neji looked neither judgmental nor calculating, simply thoughtful. It was the one thing Deidara could count on from his close friends in the band. They didn't judge him, no matter what it was he happened to have done.

"He's just not your usual type." Neji said at last. "Not a groupie, or a fan, or a reporter, or another celebrity. He's just a librarian."

Deidara laughed, leaning back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

"I know." he admitted. "I think that's part of what I like about him. Out of all the normal people I run into, it's someone like him."

"And what is he like?"

"Like I said, new. Different. Something I haven't dealt with before."

"You mean you can't manage to seduce him."

"Ah!" Deidara held up a finger. "Can't manage to seduce him YET!"

Neji rolled his eyes.

* * *

Sasori

* * *

Sasori was ready to call it a week. Unfortunately, he was the sort of person who due to his lack of motivation to have a social life and equal lack of precognition, was working Saturday. Of course, he could cancel, but then he'd feel guilty and laze around the house all day anyway. Likely moping.

For now, rather than think about having to actually go to work tomorrow, he focused on the task of rolling over to the phone. He lazily picked it up from his bedside table and rolled back over so his face was in the pillow. He let out a very muffled 'hello?'.

"Sasori? Are you suffocating yourself in a pillow again, cousin?"

Sasori picked up his head.

"No." he grumbled, much more clearly. "What would make you think that."

"It's what you do whenever you sulk."

"…I'm not sulking."

"They're also NOT replaying the footage of Izawa Deidara kissing you on the news. Again."

Sasori let out a piteous groan and slammed his head back into the pillow. From the other side of the line, he could hear his cousin laughing.

Sabaku Temari was a bright, blond haired vixen who Sasori was most often proud to call his blood. Like most of their family, she was strong willed and hard headed, and incredibly determined when she put her mind to something, no matter what it was.

Rather than go to college, Temari had set her sights on becoming a master fan dancer, and in her spare time, work as a bartender at a club and restaurant owned by Sasori's close friend. While her father and their grandmother were not altogether supportive of this idea, Sasori made it his mission in life to make sure she got the best of what she wanted out of life.

They had stopped listening to the adults in their lives long before Temari dropped out of high school.

Sasori had two other cousins as well, Temari's elder and younger brothers. Her older brother, Kankuro, worked with Sasori at the library. He'd been away on a college trip though, majoring in English Lit. and trying to get his teaching degree. Kankuro loved books almost as much as Sasori, but he really loved showcasing his knowledge, so a teaching position was perfect for him.

The third of his triad of cousins was Gaara, the only real proof that they were related. Quiet, stoic and red haired, Gaara and Sasori could have been brothers. They practically were. Gaara was finishing up his last year of college, just for the sake of having a degree or two under his belt, while writing his novel. A love of words ran in the family, and Sasori couldn't have been more proud of all of them.

For now though, as all family members are want to do, Temari was making him want to murder her.

"Soooo Sasori, why didn't you tell us about your 'new beau'? How was that 'hot kiss' by the way, you 'fiery redhead'."

"If you quote that article any further I'm going to come over there and gouge your eyes out with a spork." Sasori threatened.

"But your relationship is just developing! Don't you want to 'see where it leads'?!"

"I'm hanging up Temari."

Temari laughed again, fully aware that her red haired cousin was hugging his pillow and pouting. She could see him in her minds' eye, glowering at the far wall and looking a lot more like a kicked kitten than an upset man.

"Oh quit your pouting." she admonished, done laughing. "You know I love you to pieces Sasori, I'm just teasing."

"You're awful." he whined. "Can't you see I'm suffering?"

"Oh no, you were kissed by an extremely attractive superstar. How terrible your life must be."

Sasori just pouted more and hugged his pillow at the sarcasm in Temari's voice. His cousins were just about the only people to know Sasori actually had a childish side. He'd buried it deep, but something about talking to them made him revert back to it whenever occasion called.

"Shut up Temari, he's an utter and complete asshole."

"Oh? You've spoken to Izawa Deidara?"

Sasori narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the air as if Temari was in front of him.

"You…aren't a fan of his…whatever it is. Metal cage or whatever."

"They're called MENTALCASE and they're fabulous alright!" Temari huffed on the other end. "And yes I do happen to be a fan, they're actually really popular I'm surprised you don't know about them."

"When do I actually keep up to date with pop culture?"

"When J.K. Rowling is putting out a new book or denouncing Stephanie Why-ers?"

"...When books are not involved."

"Point taken."

Sasori sighed.

"But, yeah." he admitted. "I did talk to him. He was an ass."

"Really?" he heard the shifting of cushions. Temari was probably sitting down. "That's disappointing, he seems really nice in his interviews."

The redhead sighed again, rolling over onto his back to stare at his ceiling.

"I mean I'm sure he's nice enough when his goal isn't fucking you into a mattress or just generally annoying you." Sasori admitted. "But seeing as his intentions towards me are both, I'm sort of stuck in the region of 'he's a complete and utter douche'."

"You know there are a lot of people who are dying to be you right now."

"They don't have to die. Tell them to dye their hair red and come take my place for a week until he goes away, I'd be HAPPY to let them."

"Sasori, cousin, bro, you've got a gorgeous, insanely rich and talented rock star heavily pursuing you after kissing you on live television because he could. What's so wrong with that, seriously?"

Sasori glared at his ceiling as if it had personally offended him and then laid his arm over his eyes, sighing once more.

"I don't have TIME to put up with his bullshit, that's all." he said.

"Time? Sasori you've got a good amount of friends whom you maintain and you still manage to not have much of a social life compared to even the rest of the library staff! Maybe a little bit of letting your hair down so to speak is what you need."

"Temari, I'm not the 'let my hair down' type. If I give in to his advances then what? A week, maybe two, hell maybe a lot less than that and then he's done and moves on? Really? Does that sound like me?"

It was Temari's turn to sigh, more in understanding and resignation than anything else.

"No muss, no fuss, no strings attached. I know Sasori, not your style. I'm sorry cous, it'd just, you know, be nice to see you having some fun sometime. We worry about you, ya know? You focus on making sure the three of us are okay so much, you don't get much time to take care of yourself."

Sasori smiled softly to himself.

"I know Temari, and thank you for worrying, but I'm really alright. If I'm going to have a casual fling, I'm not going to do it with a rock star while the whole world is watching."

"Good, because, you know, thinking about it, Deidara's not been vetted by any of us…."

"Temari last time Kankuro brought home a girl you and Gaara managed to make her leave within five minutes."

"And I am just saying that family looks out for each other."

"Temari she's been in therapy since."

"Family bro. It's serious business."

Sasori would have laughed but he paused. Narrowing his eyes, he got up, padding through the house and telling Temari to hold on. Reaching the front room, he glowered at his sheer curtains, yanking the thicker ones closed as well.

"Sorry Temari, can I call you back?" he said. "I've got to make a call."

"Oh? What about?"

"The reporters are swarming my house. I've got to call the police. ….Again."


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five_

* * *

Sasori

* * *

Sasori had managed to schlep his way through his last day of work for the week without much incident. Saturdays were never particularly busy, for one thing, seeing as they mostly closed at three accept during exam week. They had closed at two thirty today, and Sasori had bolted to get home.

After a few hours of rest, some food, a shower and a wardrobe change, he had left the house again.

One was not very liable to see Akasuna Sasori go much of anywhere without some kind of satchel or backpack, and even less likely to see him without a book. Mostly because he had several stashed just about everywhere, including his car. So naturally, when he left without a bag or an extra book, it usually meant he wasn't intending to read anytime in the near future.

That meant there was only one place he was going; Origami. Don't let the name deceive you, Origami was anything but delicate paper, and it certainly wasn't fancy or intricate. Classy maybe, but it most certainly wasn't fancy.

Origami was the beginning of a small chain of restaurants owned by his longtime friend, Nagato Pein. Restaurant by day, Origami and its sister establishments transformed into some of the best clubs in town once the lights went down and the clock struck ten.

Not only did they have the best food and drinks, but generally the best DJs, live bands, and parties. Nonetheless, Pein kept it all rather small scale. Origami took up one whole building which spanned two floors, and most of the other restaurant clubs only took up one. There was private dining areas on the second floor during the day, and during the evening, there was a smaller scale dance floor.

Pein was also sure to provide access to cabs when one had drunk too much, condoms, and security for whenever someone was getting out of hand. (Though to be fair, Pein could have probably handled that all by himself.) He even had a 'designated driver' hand stamp, so that the bartenders knew not to serve someone.

Probably the best thing about Origami though was the fact that Pein was actually active in it night to night. He personally announced the performers, tended the bar, cooked, and even sometimes handled security. It gave Origami a really nice, homey feel to it.

As for where the name came from, it was actually named after how Pein had met his girlfriend and soon to be wife, Taiami Konan. Long ago in the hopefully forgotten years of high school, Konan had been a new student in Pein's sophomore year. She had been quiet and shy, and constantly made origami out of every piece of paper she got her hands on.

Pein had taken an interest in her and slowly gotten her to open up by making origami flowers with her. It became their thing, origami, so when they had opened the club together, they had named it after their mark. The symbol of the club Origami was a paper flower, like Konan usually had in her hair.

They were the kind of sickly sweet couple ballads were written about, but they were also some of Sasori's closest friends. He spent a good portion of his weekends at their club, either reading and ignoring his social group, or actually interacting. And this week he seriously and sincerely needed some social interaction with his insane friends.

As ever, Origami was packed on Saturday night, but Sasori had access to the private parking garage, so he had no trouble parking. He locked his car and exited the garage, listening for the telltale click of the lock going back into place. It didn't take him even five minutes to get in the door, as the bouncers all knew him as Pein's good friend.

Besides, there was never too much of a line outside Origami. After all, if you couldn't get in there, then you could just go a few streets down to another one of their clubs and so on.

Getting to the first of the two bars was a much harder ordeal, but Sasori managed it like always, flopping into one of the many empty seats. By now, most people knew that the front half of the bar was reserved for Pein's friends, who appeared most weekends and Fridays.

It only took a few moments for his group to start showing up.

The first three to appear were Kankuro (back from his trip) and Gaara, his cousins, and Sai. Sai was, for lack of a better way to put it, about as flaming gay as you could possibly get without getting it tattooed somewhere on your body. But then again, knowing Sai, he probably did, somewhere, in big, rainbow letters. With a unicorn.

Next to show was Hatake Kakashi. Exactly who he was, what he did, and how he had become their friend was a genuine mystery to just about everyone in the circle of friends. Kakashi had just showed up one day and gotten adopted into their group. A man of undetermined age and origin, Kakashi liked smutty romance novels, kung-fu movies, and whatever drinks the bartenders decided to mix up.

After Kakashi appeared their usual bartender, Mitarashi Anko. She was part of their system whenever they gathered at the club. People would start showing up, Anko would serve everyone drinks. After the last of the group showed, Temari (who, as mentioned, was a bartender at Origami) would take over as their drinks master. Sometimes Pein or Konan would take over for her so she had a break, but mostly, she did the serving.

Tonight, it took a half hour for the remainder of their friends to show up. They appeared together, from the back room where they had likely been talking about business, to no one's surprise.

Kakuzu, tall, tanned and tattooed all over, was Pein's financial advisor and manager. Since becoming a member of their group of friends, he had also taken over as pretty much everyone's accountant. This was how people like Sai and Kakashi managed to somehow still have perfect credit.

Pein thumped Sasori on the back as he sat down beside him, while Konan slipped behind the bar to do drinks with Temari. Once everyone was seated and settled, the conversations began.

Unsurprisingly, the topic of debate was, to Sasori's horror, Izawa Deidara.

"Okay, first of all, what the fuck why did you not TELL us you were gay, excuse you-"

"I'm no-!"

"And second of all oh my god, Izawa Deidara? Could you have scored a hotter piece of ass really?"

Temari slid Kakashi a drink.

"Gotta agree with him there, cousin." she said, nodding along.

"But I-"

"Seriously I'm going to kill you though, god why didn't you-"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SAI I'M NOT GAY!"

Sai gave Sasori an affronted look, which made Anko snicker from down the bar. Sasori glowered at the pale man and took a sip of his drink. (It was called a Spitfire, Anko had invented them. Slightly spicy, slightly sweet, and just enough alcohol to make you a little tipsy if you were a lightweight.)

"Then what?" Sai said, sounding scandalized. "You go around kissing hot, famous guys as a hobby? And you didn't TELL me?!"

Sasori sincerely considered getting horribly smashed tonight, but then came to the memory of the single time he'd ever gotten drunk, back in college. He shuddered at the memory and decided he'd stick to his two drink rule, thanks. No hangovers for him. So instead, he slammed his head into the bar.

"What I think my cousin is trying to say, Sai," Gaara murmured in his calm voice. "Is that he had no intention or wish to kiss Izawa Deidara."

Sasori gave Gaara a bitter look.

"Don't tell me YOU know Mentalcase too." he grumbled.

Gaara shrugged.

"I'm in college, what do you expect? I keep up with the times based solely on what I hear when I sit down in my first lecture. I can't help but know."

Sighing, the older redhead sat up, still sulking. It would have been nice to at least know the band that had accosted him, but naturally, he was the only one who didn't. Kankuro patted him sympathetically on the back while finishing off his first beer.

"Look," Sai said, leaning over Gaara's lap. "Sori, baby, please, take advantage of this! I mean, uhm, HELLO? You have possibly the hottest guy on the market at your fingertips!"

Sasori turned a withering glare on Temari. She looked momentarily guilty, but it didn't really last. She could gossip with anyone, but leave her alone in a room with Sai and they would soon have every tidbit of scandal laid out before them to talk about. Including her own cousin, the traitor.

"Though I do not generally agree with fruit and tequila over there," Sai tipped his glass to Kakuzu as if that was a compliment. "This does present a good opportunity."

"Oh for crying out loud." bemoaned the librarian. "You too Kakuzu? Please, tell me you're not with them!"

"What does being with them entail?"

"Thinking I should fuck Dei-whatever the fuck his name is."

"Then no." Kakuzu admitted. "I'm not with them, I don't think you should just fuck him."

Sasori sighed with relief.

"Thank you, Kakuzu."

"I think you should fuck him and then BLACKMAIL him. For large sums of money."

Sasori and several of their friends choked on their drinks. There was a moment of people dissolving into coughing fits before they got themselves back together.

"Kakuzu, I don't want to fucking blackmail him!" Sasori yelped. "I just want him to go away!"

"Good luck with that one, cousin." Kankuro said, taking a swig from his second beer. "Izawa Deidara's known for not only getting what he wants, but hunting whatever it is down until he's gotten it. He's not going to give up easily."

"Yeah but he has to leave town sometime." Konan piped up. "Mentalcase can't stay in town forever."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Gaara said. "From what I've heard they just got back from being on tour, and they're planning on settling somewhere for a while. They never specified a location, so they might just be doing what they want for a while."

"…So basically they're in town indefinitely."

Sasori let out a piteous sounding groan and let his head hit the bar again.

Pein patted his back, but even his best friend wasn't comforting him at this point. Until further notice, he had a blond haired menace to deal with, and he wasn't going away.

* * *

Gaara drove Sasori home. Sasori had only had one drink, but Gaara had asked to stay over and Kakuro had driven him to Origami.

When they got back to Sasori's it was somewhere around one am and they really didn't care enough to sneak in the back. If any reporters saw them, they didn't notice or give a damn, more concerned with getting inside and getting some sleep.

Of course once inside it wasn't that simple. Both night owls, neither redhead was intent on getting right to bed, even if they were a bit tired. Gaara's book came into conversation, and things just spiraled from there, as they always seemed to between them.

They stayed up until the early hours of the morning, talking books and art and publishing. It was always like this, whenever his cousins were over. Sasori, usually reserved and keep to himself-y, found himself talking for hours and hours without getting bored.

It was the magic and mystery of family, as Sai would flamboyantly say.

Somehow, neither of the redheads were altogether surprised when the next morning Temari showed up at the front door with a tired looking Kankuro in tow. She simply held up a bag of breakfast pastries and another of some very strong tea leaves, and was allowed inside. She knew her brother and her cousin well enough to know they hadn't slept.

Sasori spent Sunday with his family, forgetting all about famous blond haired singers, diamond bracelets and paparazzi.

Well at least until he had to call the police for the third time, anyway.

* * *

**A/N:** The world has yet to end, updates for everyone!


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six_

* * *

Deidara

* * *

Unlike Sasori, Deidara did not spend his Sunday relaxing in his home with his favorite people, eating sweets and talking. Though, to be fair, that would have made him just as happy as it made Sasori. Spending lazy days with the band was probably his favorite thing in the entire world.

However taking time off from touring was considerably different than taking time off from playing altogether. Mentalcase were much too popular to do something like that, so they were still on call for everything from photo shoots to live concerts at a moment's notice.

That was why, at much too early on a Sunday, the whole band was dragged across the city to some studio Deidara couldn't identify. They were dragged in, still half asleep, and let Itachi do all their talking. Then they were dragged into hair and makeup where a much more awake looking Neji awaited them.

They had a small staff, unlike most other bands. Their agent had suggested hiring more people to do their hair and makeup, and take care of their wardrobes, but they had firmly refused. From band to manager to the people who prettied them up, Mentalcase was a friendly affair. They all knew one another somehow from at least several years prior, and they wanted it to stay that way.

Granted, that meant they had to get to hair and makeup a lot earlier than most other people, and it also meant that they wound up doing half the job themselves. But again, that was how they liked it.

Hyuga Neji, Hinata's cousin, was their makeup artist. He had graduated from an institute and everything, with honors no less. Neji was what might call a genius, quite literally with an IQ higher than most politician's combined. Yet of all the things, he had decided he wanted to do makeup.

In a lot of ways, Deidara considered Neji a fellow artist. He preferred music, but Neji's canvas was a person's face. Taking someone's natural beauty and amplifying it, turning them into an alluring specter, or even transforming them into someone else entirely. He could do everything. Once, for a Halloween concert, he had turned them all into very convincing zombies.

Fake blood and guts and everything. It had grossed Hinata out considerably, so he had been kind enough to make her the sole survivor. They played it off as her being a girl and Itachi had pitched some sexualized bullshit they didn't actually mean. No one had complained.

Their hairstylist was a blond girl named Yamanaka Ino. Ino was loud, brash, brazen and incredibly good at what she did. Though she personally favored a simplistic ponytail, she could tame even Sasuke's unruly hair to do whatever it was she wanted of it.

Most of the time though, she bickered with Deidara about his hair. He liked it to just be left alone. Down or in his signature half-ponytail, and that was it. Easy, pretty, and without much hassle. Most of the time, he got away with it, mainly because his fans seemed love his long, golden locks.

Today he was not going to be so lucky.

"But Inooooo…." he whined at her.

Ino smacked him over the back of the head, making him wince.

"No." she said firmly. "I'm going to do what I want with your hair and you're just going to have to live with it, do you understand me?"

"No I don't."

Deidara shrieked when the platinum blond brought scissors up to his hair. His precious hair! His only true weakness! Anything but that!

"Okay okay okay! Do what you want!" he said frantically.

Most of the time, he wouldn't have been bothered by someone threatening his precious hair. Generally, that was because most people would be too terrified to actually follow through with it. It was a well-known fact that Deidara loved his hair and took care of it almost religiously. He wasn't about to let it get hurt.

Ino of course, like many of his friends, was an exception to one of his rules. This one being the hair rule. She was the only one in existence to ever actually get him to sit down, shut up and agree to a haircut. It had only been a few inches, but the sentiment was the same.

"Good boy, now sit up straight and don't complain you brat."

"Yes oh cruel one."

"Shut up or I'll dye your hair green."

Pouting at the mirror, Deidara watched Ino perform her magic.

As much as he disliked having his hair messed with, it couldn't be denied. Like Neji, Ino was a genius at her craft. She could do whatever she wanted with anyone's hair, make it into anything.

First she rubbed a gloss into his hair. Not hair gel, and not chemical either, but oil based. Whatever it was, it smelled divine and made his hair glisten in the light, giving it a semi-wet look. Long hair was soon braided back in a luscious plait, ribbons threaded through the do for effect's sake. His bangs were braided at the end, and several strands were done up with smaller ribbons and beads which swished around when he moved his head.

Of course, this was some of her simpler work, but he'd seen her do much more extraordinary things than this. Once she'd managed to turn his hair into a faux hawk without cutting a single strand. That took talent.

From behind him popped up the third of their staff, TenTen. She held up two clothes hangers, one in either hand. The left held a plaid vest that was artfully shredded at the bottoms and sleeves, the right was a sheer tee shirt with a smiley face making a rude hand gesture on it.

"Uhhh…Plaid." he said.

"You sure? Offensive is always good."

"Nah, give it to Hidan. It'll fit him better anyway, besides. It'll show his chest without him not really wearing a shirt."

TenTen nodded.

"Good point. At least I might be able to wrangle him into a shirt for once in my life."

"Go forth young padawan." Deidara said gravely. "May the force be with you."

TenTen scoffed.

"Yes the force of shirt wearing."

She disappeared off to try to convince Hidan that wearing a shirt was in his better interest, leaving Deidara to watch Ino primping his hair and adding a bit more volume to it with some well-placed pins. As if his hair needed to be any thicker.

TenTen was their fashion coordinator, a bright, happy young girl who was good friends with Neji. They had dated briefly in high school but parted on good terms, remaining friends throughout their years at the institute together. Ino, Neji and TenTen had all attended together and graduated at the same time, which made them a long lasting dynamic trio.

Unlike most fashion coordinators, TenTen usually gave the band a good bit of say in what they wore, making sure they were comfortable and content with what they were wearing.

Somewhere across the room, Deidara could hear Hidan whining loudly about being forced into a shirt. From what he could hear, It took TenTen and Itachi to get him into the damn thing.

Three hours later and the whole band was prettied up, dressed and ready to go on stage. What for, according to Itachi, a filming and photo shoot combined. Basically they were just meant to play their music and do what they wanted until time was called. Pretty simple, but Mentalcase was not a simple band.

"Itachiiiii do we have toooo?" Naruto whined, pouting at their manager. "We've played this song a million times, can't we do one of the new ones?"

Itachi could feel a struggle brewing, and a migraine coming on. He rubbed the bridge of his nose carefully and tried to stop this before it started.

"No Naruto, they requested this song."

"But it's fuckin' boring man, why do we have to do this shitty old song, why can't we do one of our goddamn new ones?" Hidan whined, even more irritatingly than Naruto.

"I dislike agreeing with Hidan," the albino stuck his tongue out at Sasuke. "But I do. What's wrong with our new songs?"

"Something about this being a classic." Hinata murmured idly, adjusting the settings on her keyboard.

"That just makes it worse!"

Itachi groaned as even his younger brother dissolved into whines. What made it worse was that the camera crews were nowhere near ready, and they'd been down this road before. If they didn't set up in time, well… Let's just say Mentalcase had been known to get horrendously bored and just up and leave in favor of burgers and talking to their fans at the mall.

"Deidara?" he said. "Any input to motivate your band mates?"

One look at the blond told him that addressing him as the mature one had been a bad idea. Then again, anything to do with maturity should not be involved with Deidara anyway.

Deidara was pouting worse than a kicked puppy.

"This is boring." he said, in a whine worse than everyone else combined. "I wanna be at home tryin' to get with Reeeeeeed…"

Itachi smacked himself in the forehead in a rare moment of emotional immaturity.

"Of for the love of-"

The band had dissolved into whines and bemoaning, and at this rate they weren't going to wait their shortest record of two hours ten minutes twenty two seconds for the camera men to get there. Itachi was not going to be the one to have to inform their agent that the new record was now just under half an hour.

He rubbed his temples, willing himself not to completely lose his cool. If only so that his little brother didn't have any more ammunition in their long time rivalry.

Calming himself, Itachi clapped his hands together. For a moment, he stood silently and observed the collectively moaning band, before speaking.

"ALRIGHT." he yelled, silencing the group.

He swiveled on his heel, turning first to their bassist and guitarist, his own brother.

"Play this one song and will tell them that the rest of the roster conveniently got lost, so all we practiced was our new songs. Just this one classic alright, just the one."

Sasuke and Naruto exchanged a look, then nodded grudgingly in acceptance. They could deal with one old song, if it was just the one.

Once he had their consent, Itachi turned his attention to the drummer.

"Hidan, promise not to rip your shirt or insult any potential interviewers and you can wear your, uh…rosary."

Hidan whooped and leapt up, racing backstage to grab his rosary. If anyone asked what it was, Hidan would expound in detail on his god, Jashin, who was from some ancient religion his family practiced. Usually he was forbidden from wearing it because some people had sent letters calling him a Satanist.

Not that the band really cared, but their agent did, so they kept the visible wearing to a minimum.

He then turned to their keyboard player.

"Hinata, you're always a complete joy to work with. Just…try to keep this lot in line while you're playing and you get the Ferrari for a week."

Sasuke looked ready to protest until his brother glowered at him. Hinata smiled sweetly.

"Alright." she agreed.

Lastly, he turned to the lead singer, who was still pouting.

"Deidara." he said, voice as coaxing as he could be. "Considering the fact that Re- …Akasuna Sasori, has thus far spurned your advances in favor of pursuing his thus far fruitful career as a librarian, perhaps showing a bit more diligence on your part might be beneficial. I doubt he will show much more interest for someone who slacks off their work than he is showing you now."

Deidara perked up slightly at the thought that he might, in some way, garner a little attention from his puppy crush.

"You think?" he asked suspiciously.

"I know for a fact that if you do slack I'm going to tell every paparazzi asshole in the area about it and make sure they know what an irresponsible person you are. Think about how well that will go over with Red."

"…Point taken."

Deidara stood up to his full height and straightened his clothing. The others seemed to take this as their cue to straighten themselves out as well and pull themselves together, letting their trio of staffers come out for some last minute adjustments.

An hour later and he camera crews arrived, two hours behind schedule and not even remotely apologetic. At least not until Uchiha Itachi chewed them out royally. How he could manage to make grown men quiver and sniffle without even raising his voice was a family secret.

Eventually the whole thing got underway and the band slipped into what they knew how to do best. Play music, rock out, and just have some fun doing what they loved.

Itachi, Neji, TenTen and Ino watched from a row of seats in front while they were filmed, content to let the band do their own thing. You could only control musicians like Mentalcase up until a certain point, and then you just sort of had to let them run rampant and do as they pleased.

The moment he opened his mouth, Deidara was in his element again. Singing was what he did best and he did it better than anyone. For someone with no formal voice training and no experience in a choir or any other sort of singing group, Deidara was remarkable. In fact the lack of tutelage made him all that much more amazing.

Of course, Itachi would never belittle his own family, or his brother's lover, or their friends, but if there was a star amongst the band; it was Deidara. He would never be the one to say that hard work could be undermined or thought less of, certainly working for years to achieve greatness was no small feat. However something had to be said for raw talent, and Izawa Deidara said it all.

* * *

It took several hours and by the end of it most of Mentalcase were sweaty, sore throated and high on adrenaline. It had gone well though and everyone walked away happy. The band got to play, the crews got their shots, Itachi got the band to behave and nothing went drastically wrong.

While usually after a performance there would be fans waiting and hours of makeup removal and getting everything back in place, today they didn't really even bother. Since everything had been a rather small setup for the sake of time, Neji, TenTen and Ino simply packed up and they were on their way.

On the car ride back, Itachi wrangled them into talking about perspective venues for their shows while they were in town. Most of the band simply moaned and groaned their way through the conversation, but Deidara's head was in the clouds and he didn't even pay any attention.

In the end, Itachi sighed and pocketed his PDA.

"We'll pick up this conversation again." he promised, glaring at them.

For once though, not even his glare reached the thoughtful blond. What Itachi had said today, to coax him into getting to work, that had gotten him thinking. Mainly about Akasuna Sasori, unsurprisingly.

It wasn't often that Deidara actually gave much of a damn about what kind of impression he left a person with. Usually so long as both parties left happy, he didn't care what people thought about him. After years of being singled out as the weird kid part of the even weirder group (he was friends with Itachi and Hidan, think about it), it was an instinctive reaction.

So when he actually did want to make a good impression, he took it a bit seriously. Of course, usually he didn't realize that he cared about what impression he left that person with until it one day struck him. Like today.

The question remained of course, how to leave a good impression on Akasuna Sasori. Don't mistake his intentions, they were still entirely the same as before. Perhaps the only difference now was that rather than a wham bam thank you man, he wanted wham bam thank you man with pleasant after effects and memories for the redhead.

So with this thought in mind, and several ideas linking themselves together, Deidara stared out the window, twirling a beaded strand of hair around one finger.

He'd get Akasuna Sasori yet.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

* * *

Sasori

* * *

If Sasori had thought that continually ignoring Izawa Deidara, rebuking the media's attempts to talk to him, and generally pretending like the irritating blond didn't exist, would deter him… He was sincerely out of luck.

If nothing else, by the end of the second week the paparazzi seemed even more determined to find out more than just his name, workplace and home address. At the very least, it seemed like someone somewhere had pulled enough strings to keep that last bit of information out of the papers and off the internet.

Of course, Sasori had no idea how that had been done, but it had in face been Itachi's doing. He had enough sense to know that having something like that released to the public would only bode badly for the innocent bystander who had gotten wrapped up in Deidara's fancy.

For now though, Sasori was considerably more concerned with what he was going to do about the immediate problem. Though his neighbors were as understanding as they could be and more, there was only so much they could put up with, and to be frank, Sasori was starting to lose his cool as well.

Sasori glanced between his curtains and sighed, leaning back against his counter. Only five this morning, but there were probably more hiding in their cars.

You'd think that after almost two weeks of someone constantly denying that a kiss meant anything, people might take the hint. But for some ungodly reason, it just seemed to spurn them on. Sasori didn't understand. How famous did a person have to be to not only get away with sexually assaulting a bystander on live television, but also have it keep the media's attention for this fucking long?

This was ridiculousness.

The redhead glowered at his teacup as though it had personally offended him, even though it wasn't even one of the stupid mugs Kankuro got him as a joke on holidays. That stupid blond was making his life incredibly difficult, and it was starting to really get on his nerves.

It wasn't as though he would claim he'd had an easier life prior to two weeks ago. He'd had his trials and his disasters, and a lot had gone wrong. But not right now and not at this point in his life, he had been solid now. On steady ground, trusting himself, and for the most part living simply.

It was the fault of that fucking modern art show. He knew it had boded badly since the second he'd seen it, he should have just run then.

A little disgusted with himself for being so pessimistic, (not that he was an optimist either) Sasori dumped the last of his tea and washed his cup. He finished his toast and put his jacket on, preparing to leave his house. He resolved that if he was approached again today, he would punch someone.

Luckily, the paparazzi seemed to sense his less than pleasant mood, and allowed him to leave his own home with minimal hassle. He stopped only to greet one of his older neighbors and apologize for the bother.

"If the dang police can' keep 'em away, what're ya gonna do?" the man asked, looking somehow both sympathetic and annoyed.

"I know, I know I'm sorry." Sasori sighed, running hand through his red locks. "I'll figure something out, I promise. Tell your wife hello for me."

"Of course, you have a good day."

"You too."

He made sure the man got back into his house alright, then stepped on the gas, heading out of his neighborhood and onto the road. His single solace seemed to be the library at this point, so he turned on the radio, turned up the first Led Zeppelin song he found, and ignored everything as he made his way to work.

* * *

It was Tuesday, Sasori had made it through Monday without much incident and, for the moment, he had high hopes. With all good luck providing this whole mess would die down in no time.

For the record, good luck was hardly ever providing for Akasuna Sasori, if you'd forgotten.

Tuesday morning he arrived at work, ready to spend another day among the lovely smell of books new and old, enjoying the occasional break to read. Oddly enough he got his wish, making it through the day with very little incident. Save a few rowdy teenagers and a young woman who didn't know Shakespeare from Edgar Allan Poe, the day went smoothly.

Sasori left feeling relatively at ease, carrying a few very heavy looking boxes with him. He was one of the only people in the library with the patience to do the quarterly inventory, and his reward was whatever slightly damaged books they had.

His good mood ended however when, for the second time ever, he found one blond rock star leaning back against his car.

Sasori almost screamed, but resisted the urge by gritting his teeth.

"YOU." he snarled. "Get away from my car."

To his surprise, the blond did as told, moving out of the way so Sasori wasn't forced to go past him to get to his car. The redhead narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"So long as you seem compliant, how about you just go away?" he griped, hoping maybe today Lady Luck might grant a wish or two.

Not so, sadly.

"You know, you could at least give me the courtesy of a hello." Deidara said. "I've been out here two hours waiting for you to get off work."

Sasori paused, setting the boxes down. He turned around to look at the singer with a raised eyebrow.

"You've been out here…? Didn't you ambush me before?"

"Well yeah but I was waiting most of the day that time. And I figured you probably took overtime to avoid me so I had to wait again."

Sasori stared at the blond like he was a lunatic, which in his opinion he was. Eventually he just sighed, grit his teeth, and then turned around again. He brushed his hair back behind his ear and leaned down to unlock his trunk.

"Considering the fact you're unlikely to go away, and I'm going to have to load my car, you've got until I get in the driver's seat." he said. "Start talking."

Deidara brightened considerably. Okay so it wasn't a candlelight dinner followed by a passionate night in his bed but hey, it was better than anything he'd gotten out of the redhead before. He settled back against the tail of a minivan and smiled at Sasori's back.

"Alright." he said. "How was your day?"

Sasori stuttered to a halt, standing straight without even having touched one of the boxes. He turned around again, giving Deidara an incredulous look that hinted at surprise.

"You waited two hours just to ask me how my day was?" he said, sounding somewhere between surprised and suspicious.

"Well, yeah I guess." Deidara said, shrugging. "I've never worked at a library, but it seems pretty cool. I wouldn't mind having your job."

"You, work at a library?" he scoffed. "I shudder at the very thought."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You seem more like the type to burn it down."

"While pyrotechnics are a hobby of mine," Deidara admitted. "Burning down government owned establishments is a big no-no. Besides, I can respect a good book, I wouldn't ruin another person's passion."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Now you're just being mean."

Sasori smirked and leaned over, picking up the first of the boxes and putting it in his trunk. Most of these were inventory files, but at least one was full of books for him to keep. Some would go on his shelves, others would go to his cousins, and everything else would go to a charity or shelter.

As he leaned over, Deidara had to bite his tongue. Red really didn't seem the type to like having someone comment on how good their ass looked in tight jeans, no matter how tempting it was. But seriously, intelligent, cute, fiery AND he had a really nice butt? If Deidara had known the key to finding a sexy bedmate was to kiss a random civilian, he would have done it sooner.

He kept those thoughts to himself though, but unfortunately, along with not tolerating superstar bullshit, Sasori seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.

"Stare at my ass ten seconds longer and I'm going to shove you into the nearest open trunk." the redhead warned dangerously.

Deidara grinned.

"Kidnap fantasies, how kinky Red."

"And then roll you downhill towards the nearest body of water."

"You are a cruel person, has anyone ever told you that?"

Sasori seemed incredibly unapologetic, turning back to his car again and continuing to put the boxes in the trunk. Deidara took the threat to heart though, instead focusing on Sasori's bright red hair. It was a unique color, he liked it. It reminded him of the sunset, or poppies, or even strawberries. All things he liked, which made it easy to fantasize running his hands through those messy locks.

Mm. He could just imagine it now. He'd bet Sasori would like having his hair played with, he seemed like the type to enjoy being petted. And despite his cold exterior, he probably liked cuddling. Deidara would spend hours (after the passionate sex) snuggling an petting him. Sasori would nuzzle back and purr, and then the petting would get heavier and-

"Whatever you're thinking, the answer is that it would never happen."

"But you would look so cute in-"

"If you say something along the lines of 'maid's outfit' I'm going to get in my car and mow you down just on principal."

"Have you talked to someone about these violent feelings you've been having, Sasori? They're not healthy."

"My violent feelings are only for you." he snapped.

"Aw." Deidara crooned. "I'm flattered."

Sasori lifted the last box, resting it on the edge of the trunk. He turned bored auburn eyes on his companion, looking unruffled.

"You've got thirty seconds before I'm in this car and leaving."

"There's a lot I can do in thirty seconds Red." Deidara teased.

Sasori glowered at him and turned away, putting the last box in the trunk he slammed the lid closed and locked it, rounding around to the driver's side door. Deidara was about to protest that he still had three seconds when he heard what Sasori had.

By the time he had turned around, Sasori was driving away, and the paparazzi was swarming again. Internally, Deidara groaned.

Well, that could have gone worse, and it could have gone better. Basically, nothing had changed.

Super.

* * *

Wednesday found Sasori in an incredibly foul mood. Deidara's little ambush the day before had reignited the media's interest in the both of them. Good for Deidara, not so good for Sasori.

He woke to loud banging on his door, and when he finally woke himself up enough to open it, he was faced with a perky blond reporter shoving a microphone in his face. He had simply rolled his eyes and slammed the door shut again with a groan.

It hadn't gotten any better though. He had to close his windows and drapes, spending most of the morning in darkness because he refused to turn a light on at nine am when he could have sunlight. It may have been just to spite the media, who knew, he was just annoyed.

His tea wasn't brewed long enough, his cereal was soggy and he spilled milk on his just cleaned pair of jeans. Sasori was in a foul mood before he even stepped outside, and the immediate media swarm did not help his mood one little bit.

The librarian didn't even dignify the less hostile reporters with answers. He managed to calm himself enough not to hit any of them or make rude comments, if just to keep himself moderately civil in the papers, which he had stopped reading at this point. Seeing his own face on the cover day after day was wearing on him.

Whatever hopes he'd had of getting to work and finding solace in his job however was dashed when he arrived and found Izawa fucking Deidara in the parking lot. Again. He could recognize his car by now though, a flashy black thing with yellow and white decal. He'd avoid it from now on.

Sasori slammed his car door, not even offering Deidara so much as a glare today. He walked straight past him, and the rock star followed.

"You know I never got that hello from yesterday." Deidara said.

Sasori stayed silent, willing himself to pretend Deidara was just a figment of his imagination that would go away.

"Aw c'mon Red you at least had the decency to look at me yesterday, what gives?" the blond whined, tagging along behind the redhead.

Still nothing, Sasori had quite a bit of self-control to his name. He wasn't too far from the library doors either, he could make it and Deidara wouldn't follow him. Maybe. It wasn't like Deidara was a vampire and the library was a church, he just hoped there was a shred of decency in the blond.

"You're so cruel Sasori." Deidara whined further. "Doesn't seeing me make your day?"

That was it, Sasori snapped.

He rounded on the blond, his rust red eyes blazing with anger as he glared holes into the blond. Deidara actually took a step backwards, nervous. That was the same glare Itachi had every time Sasuke and Naruto skipped an interview to fuck in one of the back rooms.

It was usually followed by severe pain, and there was no familial barrier between him and Sasori. The redhead was likely to be a lot worse.

"You know what would REALLY make my day?" Sasori snarled dangerously. "Coming home to a yard not full of fucking gossip hounds ready to bang down my door at seven in the morning! But THAT never happens because they could care less about what I want seeing as YOU'RE involved!"

He let out a huff once he had finished growling at Deidara, then spun around, stalking away. Sasori did not often yell, but somehow, the low, dangerous hiss was a lot more unnerving than Itachi when he was screaming.

Deidara watched him disappear into the library, not following him any further. Inside, Sasori stormed through the back door and down into records, confining himself to the lonely catacombs for however long it took him to calm down.

* * *

To Sasori's complete and utter shock, he returned home to a yard devoid of paparazzi. Though sure it was a fluke, he woke the next morning to the same thing. After two days and no sign of the media, Sasori grudgingly admitted that perhaps the blond was not as much of an asshole as he'd pegged him to be.

* * *

It was Saturday when Sasori heard from Deidara again. Though he was sure a that he'd seen the blond hanging around the library a few times, he had yet to bother him again. However at around noon on Saturday, his home phone rang.

Unsure who was calling, Sasori had unfurled from where he was curled up on his couch and leaned over to grab the phone. He was spending today with the television on running a marathon of some horror show, several good books, and assortment of cookies, tea, cheese and crackers. Small pleasures, Sasori was a simple guy.

"Hello?" he asked, voice mellow and easy.

"Hey there Red!"

Sasori almost dropped the phone in shock. He scrambled to get a better hold on it and held it up to his ear, staring at the television incredulously, as if it was the one that was being outrageous.

"How the hell did you get this number?!" he snapped.

From the other side of the line, Deidara laughed. It made Sasori want to throw his phone out the window, but instead he just twitched in irritation.

"Ah, well, your coworker may have let it slip when I went in today." Deidara said. "The girl with bleached hair and dark roots? The pretty one."

The redhead muted the television with a growl, rubbing the bridge of his nose. None of the workers at the library were inherently bad people, or even people he disliked. But they were a library, so they took on volunteers. Irritating, gossiping, teenage volunteers who would totally give his number out to lead singers of famous bands.

He was going to have serious words with that girl.

"Aw, are you mad Red?"

"No."

"Is it because I called her pretty?"

Sasori spluttered indignantly, then snarled again and grit his teeth.

"I don't give a DAMN who you call pretty!"

"Oh." Deidara chirped. "Good! Because in that case you're probably one of the prettiest people I've ever met."

Sasori slammed the phone back into its holder, hanging up.

How dare that brat, who did he think he was? Calling him pretty, honestly, what the hell?! Sasori was a full grown man, not some school girl he could just win over with a few words!

He glared at the TV, as if willing it to tell him he was wrong. Of course, the TV didn't do anything, still running the horror show marathon that Sasori was no longer paying attention to.

With a loud sigh, the redhead got up and went to the bathroom, intent on splashing his face with some water to cool himself down. Then maybe he'd get the ice cream out of his freezer to stem his irritation, yes, that sounded like an excellent idea. Something Temari would suggest, but an excellent idea.

As he washed his face, Sasori pretended like he hadn't seen his own flaming cheeks in the mirror. Izawa Deidara had NOT made him blush, and he never would.

Maybe.

* * *

_**A/N :**_ Dual holiday uploads, merry Christmas, and whatever else you celebrate everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight_

* * *

Sasori

* * *

Having the day off always made Sasori feel lazy, but sometimes even he had to take a break from work. He loved the library, and his job, but there had to be some time taken to just relax.

That being said, Sasori found himself locked away in one of the rooms upstairs, where he had knocked out one of the walls to make it bigger. Over the years he had lived here he had transformed it into a studio, put in new, bigger windows, and even a ceiling fan for during the summer. Most of the money he'd spent on the house had gone into the studio.

It felt like it had been forever since he'd picked up his paints or charcoal and went to work. He doodled when he could at work, he couldn't help himself, but there was nothing like sitting down with loud music and making art until your arms hurt.

Since the whole Deidara debacle started, Sasori hadn't gotten enough art time in. So today was all about his art, whatever his hands took him to, he would work on.

Sasori did not limit himself to one style of art. He did whatever the hell he wanted whenever he wanted because he felt that creativity, in all forms, should never be stunted. He painted, mostly in acrylics and watercolors, he used charcoal, sometimes colored pencil, a few times he had tried copic markers. However if there was one thing Sasori was the master of, it was craving.

If you gave him a block of wood and a carving knife, then within three hours Sasori could be handing you a wooden sculpture of yourself. He favored making dolls, however, mostly styled after Japanese ones. Some were made to stay in position on a stand and look beautiful. Others were ball jointed and could move into whatever position you wanted them to.

Most of the time, Sasori made the dolls and then gave his family and friends first pick of whichever ones they wanted, if any. The rest he donated to charities and schools, occasionally he would even manage to sell some of them. Then of course, there were a few he kept for himself.

Sasori's dream, as it had always been, was to be an artist. Art was his passion, it was what drove him, it was the fire inside him that made his imagination soar to enormous heights. He came off as such a reserved, serious person, but Sasori could paint you whole world of magic and mystery like you had never seen.

Unfortunately, life had no provided Akasuna Sasori with the easy path towards becoming an artist. Between his life and the simple fact that the art world was a bitch, Sasori had never gotten a chance to make it to the big time like he deserved.

As far as he was concerned, that was fine. He didn't need to be intensely rich or famous. Maybe just a little bit of recognition one day would be nice, but that was all he asked for.

For now though, he concentrated on creating.

He turned the radio on to a random station, put the volume on as loud as his ears would allow, and then he sat down in front of his easel.

It didn't take very long for his brush to hit canvas, and after that the whole thing just flowed. Sasori's mind conjured a perfect night sky, a deep purple lake, and soft rolling hills touched with wildflowers. Without the visual aid most artists needed, Sasori began to bring his creation to life.

He began with the lake, a base of deep blue, soft, but dark. Next came the vibrant blues, then brighter still were the lilacs and purples. He blended them together until he had the lake the color he wanted, though it looked more like wine than it did water.

That was easily remedied by more, darker purples until the lake looked like a deep body of water at midnight. He considered adding the highlights now, decided better of it, and instead moved on to the next part of the painting.

Music rolled over Sasori like waves over rocks, sometimes crashing, sometimes just brushing. Rock and roll blared, metal blasted, soft love songs whispered. His ears heard each and every note and took it all in, melding the music into the colors on his canvas. A secret harmony only he understood.

It was easier to get back in the swing of things than he had thought it would be. No matter how much time Sasori spent away from his art he always managed to come back twice as strong with five times the ideas as before. If things had been different, Sasori might have wound up becoming someone very famous indeed, but he didn't dwell on that.

By the time two o'clock rolled around, Sasori was covered in paint and halfway done with his landscape. He wiped paint stained hands on his equally dirty work pants and paused to grab his bottle of water, taking a drink. His stomach growled in protest and he glanced at the clock.

Two ten… He hadn't eaten since eight this morning, no wonder his stomach was complaining. Probably be best to go make himself something for lunch and rest his hands for a bit.

One tuna melt and orange juice later and Sasori was back in his studio, no longer hungry, momentarily rested, and ready to get back to work again. He had just sat down in front of the half completely canvas when the radio spoke up.

"_And now, 'Love Poem' from Mentalcase. Play it, Don."_ intoned the announcer.

Sasori's hand paused on its way to the canvas, dropping to rest on his knee quietly. He was tempted to change the channel and yet…it couldn't hurt to listen to just one little song right? It wasn't as though the blond menace would know or anything.

The song began to play and Sasori listened, waiting for that moment when his own personal nightmare's voice would appear.

'_Roses are red, violets are blue_

_You hate me, and I hate you_

_But let's pretend_

_To love one another_

_And later to-night_

_We'll kill each other_

_God I remember the day that we met_

_The things that you wore_

_The things that I said_

_God I remember the day that we kissed_

_You tasted like all_

_The things I shouldn't miss_

_I forgot how, to sing our song_

_Or maybe it's that I, hated it all along_

_The more you talk, the less I see_

_Hey remember how it used to be?_

_And by the way, I mean, like, when we didn't know one another._

_Remember that?_

_God I remember the day that we met_

_The things that you wore_

_The things that I said_

_God I remember the day that we kissed_

_You tasted like all_

_The things I shouldn't miss_

_And now I've forgotten which is your favorite dress_

_How it would sound when you would tell me 'yes'_

_Now I've forgotten the taste of your mouth_

_All it does now is scream and shout_

_I could care less about what you want_

_You don't care either so what are we here for_

_God I remember the day that we met_

_The things that I wore_

_The things that you said_

_God I remember the day that we left_

_The words that I wrote_

_That we never said…'_

Sasori hadn't moved the whole four and a half minutes the song had been on. He had been expecting a corny love song, or at least something stupid and cliché, after all they were a mainstream band.

It wasn't quite like that though. Their sound was unique unto their own, not quite rock, not quite pop, with drums and guitar riffs to make metal fans proud. It was something individual that you didn't get out of run of the mill bands these days. Something special that made them stand out.

Much as Sasori would have liked to have said that Deidara wasn't fitting of the band, or at least that he was the one generic thing, he wasn't. Deidara didn't sound like the boy band crooners who made money more off of their appearances than their talent. He sounded like someone whose voice just might go down in the books for ages to come.

In fact, if properly asked, Sasori found Deidara's singing remarkable. He was more than just talented, he was an artist, in his own way, evoking feelings and emotions through tone and words. It wasn't really even the words he spoke, it was the way he spoke them. That song could have been incredibly sad, but somehow he made it seem almost full of vindictive pleasure.

Sasori shuddered.

Actually, if he was honest, that was a voice that he wouldn't mind listening to more often. If he didn't personally have a rather solid grudge against the singer, he might even have gone out and bought some of their albums.

Instead of taking the chance he might give the media more ammo than needed, Sasori went to option B, be sneaky and hope for the best.

Picking up his cell phone, he clicked a few buttons and in moments had it ringing by his ear. He waited patiently until someone picked up.

"Helloooo darling, and how is my favorite sexy librarian today?"

"Hello Sai." Sasori said, more than used to his greetings by now. "Look, can you do me a favor?"

"Always happy to help out a friend, what do you need? Dating advice? Good night clubs? Well there's Origami but maybe somewhere a little less personal for a first date. Oo! Do you need something sexy to wear? You know I'm great with fashion!"

"What? No Sai I'm not going on a date with anybody."

"Well why the hell not you old iceberg."

Sasori rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to decide whether or not this was a bad idea. In the end though he was forced to admit that his choices were limited. He'd already called, might as well.

"Sai, favor. Please." he said. "Focus."

"Favor, okay." Sai sighed. "What do you need my cute lil' scorpion?"

"For you to quit it with the nicknames, first of all. Second of all, you listen to…Mentalcase, right?"

Sasori could almost literally hear Sai perk up, then grin to himself. If there was ever a sly little weasel, it was Sai. If Sasori wasn't careful, he was going to be spreading this around everywhere in no time at all. For now he had to just deal with being teased.

"Why Sasori, taking an interest in your sexy blond boyfriend's band?" Sai purred.

"One, he's not and will never be my boyfriend. Two, it's possible that I may have sort of accidentally heard Love Poem on the radio and may have possibly sort of liked it just a little bit maybe."

He pulled the phone away from his ear when Sai squealed.

"Oh my gosh LOVE POEM! That is like, one of their greatest songs ever you have such great taste oh my god. Doesn't Deidara just have like the most gorgeous voice I mean eeee he just sounds so sexy and-"

"Vindictive?"

"But you don't deny he sounds sexy."

"Sai I will hang up on you."

"Noooo don't do that talk about Mentalcase and hot guys with me! We never bond!" Sai whined. "Pleeeeease Sori I'll be good."

"You have one more strike Sai." Sasori warned. "Then I'll call Anko instead."

Sai gasped dramatically from the other side of the line.

"You bitch you wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

Sai's pouting was basically audible and Sasori smiled to himself victoriously. When in doubt, threaten to call a girl over Sai, he'd start behaving.

Once he was sure he had the pale man's attention, Sasori spoke again.

"Look, you know me, I don't generally put my feelings first. I like Love Poem enough that I would go out and buy the CD if I could, but unfortunately that would probably result in the media spinning some ridiculous story around it."

"Why don't you just ask Deidara for a copy?" Sai asked. "I mean, you've made it kinda clear you don't wanna sleep with the guy (you lunatic), but I mean, as long as he wants to shower you with presents and gain your attention, why not make something of it?"

"You sound like Kakuzu." Sasori grumbled. "Look, Deidara is a lot like a dog begging at the dinner table. If you even give him the attention necessary to say no, he's going to take that as I sign he has a chance. Actually giving him a bone to chew on is just going to exacerbate my problem."

"You do know you are the only maniac to think this is a problem right?"

"Will you help me or not?"

He heard Sai sitting up, and a moment later rustling like he was moving things around and then Sai's old couch springs squeaking. He waited patiently as the sounds of typing met his ears and Sai turned his computer on.

"Yes yes of course I'll help." Sai said exasperatedly. "Even if you do have the dating sense of a toad at this point. Love Poem's on their second album called Tried and True, you just want that or should I send you everything I have?"

Sasori paused, then nodded to himself.

"Send me everything and I'll sift through it. JUST music though Sai. Whatever other weird crap you have, I don't want it."

"But but but they did some really sexy photo sh-"

"NO Sai."

"I believe you have an incredibly small penis I hope you know." Sai grouched.

"Yes well, I KNOW you have a very small penis Sai, so that means very little to me."

"You're a devil Akasuna Sasori, but that just makes you hotter. Music coming your way in a half hour."

"Thanks Sai."

"Anytime hot stuff."

Sasori hung up and turned his eyes to his half-finished painting. The simple landscape suddenly didn't seem as appealing as it had at the beginning of the day, and Sasori found himself picking up his reds and yellows almost on automatic.

By the end of the day, he had Mentalcase playing in the background, and a beautiful, destructive forest fire on canvas.

* * *

**_A/N:_** Song Lyrics by Chi Haku


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter Nine_

* * *

Deidara

* * *

Three weeks into vacation and Deidara was still sleeping in. He could give less of a damn about waking up on time, unless they had a job, and it wasn't like Hidan was exactly up bright and early either. Deidara was generally an early bird but tell him he's on vacation and he could sleep till four pm.

The only thing waking him these days was his cell phone and occasionally Naruto, and that was about it. So needless to say he was startled by the door slamming open and someone yelling at him.

"IZAWA DEIDARA GET YOUR SORRY BLOND ASS UP!"

Deidara squawked, flipped over, and promptly toppled off his bed. He groaned piteously, wincing and rubbing his head where it had connected with the floor. Ouch, that had really hurt. Not a good way to wake up in the morning.

With another groan he hauled himself back up the side of his bed, squinting up at the intruder.

He was met with boobs. Enormous boobs.

"…Oh. Hey Tsunade-baa."

Their agent whacked him over the back of the head with a paper fan and he winced, whining as his head was abused. He looked up at her like a kicked puppy, whining.

"What was that fooor?"

"For not being up when I got here!" she barked, glaring down at him. "Now get your lazy ass up!"

Another woman peeked out from behind Tsunade. Sakura, pink haired and dressed in a maroon suit, smiled charmingly and waved to Deidara.

"Hey Dei, g'morning. Breakfast is in the lounge, I brought you donuts from when we stopped over in Boston." she said.

Deidara grinned.

"Have I mentioned you're awesome Sakura?"

"Only every time I bring you food."

Deidara managed to shoo Tsunade out of his room with Sakura, then spent a half hour shuffling around getting dressed. He yawned, pulling a shirt on over his head, realized it was inside out, then put it back on again the right way.

An hour later a slightly more awake looking Deidara came bouncing into the lounge. Itachi and Naruto were there, but the other band members were missing. Probably out doing something or being interviewed. Sasuke was likely running from rabid fans, knowing his luck.

Deidara plopped down between Naruto and Sakura, reaching out to pick up a genuine Boston cream donut. Mm, heaven in a single bite.

They were given about twenty minutes to eat and get some coffee in their system before Tsunade laid into them. As their agent, Tsunade was on top of their planning, publicity, schedules and most importantly; cleanup for any mess they managed to make for themselves.

Sakura was the face of everything. She dealt with the press and the interviewers, kept things civil and warded of unjust lawsuits. Usually this would be partially Itachi and Tsunade's jobs, but neither of them were particularly good with the press. Itachi was…Itachi, and Tsunade was a lot more likely to punch one of the reporters than even Hidan was.

If they were here, vacation time was over and they were supposed to get off their butts and do something with their time. They were still technically on sabbatical from touring, so no leaving the city, but there was plenty to do right here in town.

Deidara was on his third donut when Tsunade spoke.

"Alright first things first, you, brat."

"Yes ma'am?" Naruto asked, picking up his head, nibbling on a cinnamon roll. He was trying very hard to save the last one for Sasuke, since it was the one sweet he seemed to like.

"You and Sasuke need to get out more, go on a date or two, have fun, relax. You're not on tour so being out in public together won't be a problem, you got nowhere to be."

Naruto perked up at the news. He and Sasuke had never hidden their involvement with one another from the get go, but during tours they tried to keep dates to a minimum. Being swarmed by fans and media was incredibly unpleasant, especially on a date.

"And you, brat number two." she rounded on Deidara. "We've got some talking to do."

Deidara finished his donut and downed the last of his coffee. He had had a feeling that this meeting was mainly about him.

It wasn't the first time Deidara had hounded after somebody. He was always around, dogging after somebody, or playing hard to get while they dogged after him. Usually though, they were prominent celebrities. Movie stars, singers, script writers, animators, directors, musicians… Never a civilian with nothing to his name though.

"Look," Deidara said, before Tsunade could jump on him. "He hasn't filed a restraining order, there are no police reports about me, he's not really rejected me outright and I swear to god I am not stalking him."

"You had Itachi get you his work and home addresses."

"Okay, A; I only have the work address and B; the press had them first."

Tsunade rubbed the bridge of her nose. It was always SOMETHING with Deidara. Always. He was always pulling some kind of ridiculous stunt and while it was good publicity, it wasn't always easy to deal with the rumors. Or the fallout.

"Deidara, this is a civilian." she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Another celebrity is one thing, people expect this kind of thing amongst stars, but if this turns sour, this guy has a lot more leverage."

"Tsunade, Akasuna Sasori hasn't done anything to show he wants Deidara to go away, technically." Itachi piped up. "He's called the cops on the reporters but has left Deidara out of it. I don't think he likes the attention, but he doesn't want trouble either."

"Well then let's stop this before his desire to get rid of brat number two overrides his desire for avoiding trouble." Tsunade said.

Deidara pouted considerably, then seemed to realize what Tsunade was implying and glared. Well, not really glared, more looked incredibly annoyed and slightly hurt.

"Tsunade this isn't one of my publicity jobs, I swear. I do actually want to-"

"Sleep with him. Possibly more than once." Naruto filled in before Deidara could get vulgar. "He even slept with that one reporter who keeps annoying him for a scoop on the guy."

Their agent sighed again, rubbing a hand across her forehead. She had been hoping that this had all been just Deidara's way to stir up some trouble and excitement around the band. Instead it seemed like genuine interest. As genuine as he got, anyway.

"Alright," she said. "So you actually want a fling with this guy. We're talking Drew or Kaede?"

Drew Moran, an old fling of Deidara's, had been someone he had hounded incessantly. The cat and mouse game had gone on for months with the attractive actor, only to end after a week's time. Deidara's interest didn't hold long when he discovered that it was much more interesting to be chasing him rather than achieving his goal.

Yano Kaede on the other hand had been someone Deidara had gone after just as long and managed to spend two solid months with. He was still friends with the pretty voice actress, to this day.

"Dunno yet." Deidara said. "He's prettier than Kaede and harder to chase than Drew."

"So in other words this may just be a giant scandal waiting to happen and you want me to let you run with it."

"…Yes."

Tsunade smacked her forehead into her palm. She knew, KNEW, this was going to find a way to bite her in the ass but she knew Deidara too well. Her alone wasn't going to stop him, when he put his mind to something, nothing could.

* * *

Deidara knocked on Tsunade's door, and the older woman looked up. She gestured him inside and he stepped in, shutting the door behind him.

Tsunade sat at the desk, reading glasses perched on her nose. She set them down however and turned in her chair to face him.

"Deidara," she said, sounding serious. "I want to make sure you're serious about this."

"When am I serious about anything?" Deidara joked, but stopped when Tsunade held up a hand.

"I want honesty Deidara." she said. "If you're not going to follow through with this all the way then I want you to drop this. Civilians are risky to deal with, they don't have people telling them yes or no, they do what they feel is necessary."

"Yes Tsunade-baa, this may shock you but I was in fact human once."

Tsunade thumped him on the head with her paper fan again and he winced, but got the message loud and clear.

"Deidara if you push this kid too far he's going to snap and you're going to find yourself in a heap of trouble I may not be able to bail you out of, so I'm going to ask again; Are you really gonna keep after this guy?"

Deidara nodded.

"He's a new type of person." he said honestly. "And a challenge. I like him, he's fun. Besides, even if in the end I have to give up, I've made myself look deceptively human to the fans." he teased.

Tsunade rolled her eyes.

"We all know you're a corporation programmed psycho-drone Deidara, don't lie." she taunted in return. "You've got an amplifier where your heart should be."

"You wound me." Deidara said dramatically.

They shared a laugh, the tension in the room gone. Tsunade grinned at the singer, offering him a swig of her liquor, whatever the choice of the week was. Deidara accepted, tasting straight vodka. Oh it was one of those weeks. Jeez, he was making more trouble with this whole Sasori thing than he'd thought.

"So." Tsunade said, once she'd drunk a bit. "Made any headway with the redhead?"

"Nah." Deidara sighed. "Like Itachi said, he doesn't like attention very much… I managed to call the paparazzi off a little though, or, well, Itachi did for me. They won't be hounding him at home at least."

"That was nice of you." she took another gulp. "Any particular reason?"

A shrug.

"I bought him a diamond bracelet he never even opened, I tried to talk to him but that only kinda worked out, and other than that he's been avoiding me. I figured I'd do something nice he might try to be nicer to me."

Tsunade stared at him a long moment, then said, rather matter of factly;

"Did you ever try just asking him out, kid?"

Deidara paused, hand halfway through running through his hair. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, then opened it again.

"…No. No I haven't."

He yelped as Tsunade whacked him over the head again, just on principal.

* * *

Sasori

* * *

"Mr. Akasuna, over here-"

"Hey Red look this way!"

"C'mon just one statement would you-"

Sasori, unlike Deidara, was not relaxed and talking to his agent. He was about to scream at this point, trying to avoid the reporters outside his job. It was after all public property, there was really nothing to be done about them. Still, you'd think they'd have a little common courtesy.

"Red-!"

Sasori whirled around, at the end of his rope.

"ALRIGHT!" he yelled, making everyone around him silence.

The reporters stood still, looking at him quietly. He glared at them, huffing.

"One question." he said calmly. "One. And I mean one. And if one more person calls me Red I swear to god I'm going to break one of your incredibly pricey cameras and I don't care how much you sue me for, clear?"

"Crystal." one reporter piped up.

Sasori sighed, crossing his arms and waiting as the media quickly huddled together, discussing their one question. They seemed to come to a conclusion, and a pretty woman with brown hair stepped forward, holding her microphone out to him.

"Mr. Akasuna," she said, surprisingly polite. "How does it feel to be actively sought after by one of the members of the world famous band Mentalcase?"

Sasori sighed.

"Do you want the honest answer or the one you want to hear?" he said dryly.

"Honest, please." she said, and seemed to mean it.

"Fine. Then I couldn't give less of a damn about it. Up until that blond menace jumped me I had no idea who the hell Mentalcase even was, and to be honest, I still don't care. Now would you kindly leave me and my place of work alone? You're scaring our patrons off."

And with that he turned around and walked away, entering the library. At the very least, he'd gotten off his chest how little he cared about Mentalcase, or their lead singer's attentions. Kankuro was waiting for him inside, looking mildly impressed.

"Told them off did you?" he said.

Sasori sighed.

"For now."


End file.
